


THE BRIDGE

by DustyP



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:30:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/DustyP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair hates heights</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE BRIDGE

Blair froze, his heart beginning to hammer as the wooden planks under his feet moved.

Don’t be a wuss, he chided himself. You can do it. Just don’t look down.  
  
Ohoh, bad idea, as his gaze was drawn to the magnificent view between the cables, and the sparkle of water at the bottom of the gorge…  
  
The very bottom of the gorge – a long way down.  
  
Come on, it’s not that high, he tried to tell himself. You can’t fall, these cables are steel, it’s been standing for years…  
  
Even steel was subject to wear and tear over the years…  
  
No, no… don’t think of that.  
  
It wasn’t as though it was a mountain, just a bridge across a gap - not too high just a couple of hundred feet down to the water.  
  
Hell, even twenty feet would be bad news on this rocky cliff.  
  
His feet refused to move on the wooden planks, his hands grasping the rails were white knuckled as the suspension bridge swayed in the gentle breeze.  
  
“Blair, you okay?” the voice of Karen called to him.  
  
Lifting his eyes with an effort, Blair saw the slender form of his red-haired companion beckoning to him from the middle of the bridge.  
  
Oh God, he was almost halfway across. The point where the wind was strongest.  
  
He tried to prise a hand from the rail to wave an acknowledgement, but his fingers wouldn’t let go, so he settled for a nod.  
  
The bridge steadied for a moment and he took another step forward, forcing himself to slide his hands along the rail.  
  
Another step, then another.   
  
Hey, he was moving.  
  
Piece of cake. He could do this.  
  
He gasped as the bridge swayed and he bounced, as some idiots decided it would be fun to jump up and down and make the bridge rock.  
  
You weren’t supposed to do that, he thought, there were notices posted about jumping and larking about on the bridge.  
  
Why did he get himself into these situations?  
  
Jim would have a laugh if he knew.  
  
Jim! Pity he wasn’t here with him instead of in Seattle following up on a witness.  
  
No, he’d opened his mouth – again -and agreed to help Karen with her latest project which was on the other side of this damn bridge.  
  
Blair hadn’t realised that bridge crossing would be on the agenda; he’d had other plans for the delectable, red-headed, archaeology TA.  
  
Serves you right, Blair, he thought morosely as he shut his eyes again as the planks beneath his feet danced and swayed as the people behind him continued to jump on the bridge.  
  
A voice yelled suddenly. “Stop jumping around, you young idiots. Can’t you read the notice?”  
  
“Yeah! Yeah!” came the shout and a body was suddenly at Blair’s back. “Come on, man, move out of the way. We want to get across sometime today.”  
  
Summoning all his courage – and pride – Blair managed to unlock one hand and step to the side and let the three young men pass, without a word. He wanted to say something, anything, but wanted them gone even more.  
  
Lifting his head he saw Karen looking back at him with concern in her bright green eyes.  
  
He nodded and said. “I’m coming, Karen. Give me a second.”  
  
He was starting to feel sick as the sensation of empty space under his feet and the movement of the bridge made his head spin. No, no. he couldn't be sick, not here, not now.  
  
Forcing himself to move slowly, he caught up with Karen, then as she turned to go forward, Blair fixed his gaze on her back and followed, doggedly determined not to show how much he hated heights – especially ones under suspension bridges.  
  
At last, he felt the slight rise as the bridge sloped upward and with a groan of relief he stepped off the swaying planks and stood on the solid ground.  
  
He felt like falling to his knees and kissing the damp earth.  
  
Karen took his arm and smiled up at him.   
  
“Well, we did it, Blair. We crossed the Capilano Suspension Bridge.  Isn’t it beautiful?”  
  
Blair turned and looked back the way he’d come.  
  
He’d done it. Crossed a very long suspension bridge.  
  
The bridge was certainly an impressive sight, stretching 450 feet across and 230 feet above the river.  
  
He felt a tiny sliver of pride at his achievement.   
  
Wait till he told Jim.  
  
He smiled back at Karen. “Yeah. Old George Mackay knew what he was doing when he built that first bridge back in 1889.”

He remembered reading that in the tourist book shop.  
  
Karen nodded eagerly. “Just imagine, Blair. He built it out of hemp rope and some old cedar wood planks.”  
  
Blair gulped and inwardly shuddered. “I wouldn’t have wanted to cross that first one.” He hugged her to his side. “Well, what do you want to see first?”  
  
Karen thought for a moment. “I’d like to see everything over here, then we can go back across and see the old totem poles…”  
  
Blair didn’t hear the rest of what she was saying: the words **_go back across_ ** had made his brain freeze.  
  
In his relief at standing on solid ground, he’d forgotten – he had to make his way back across that swaying, bouncing, bridge.  
  
OH GOD!   
  
Dusty Tyree ©  
10 October, 2008  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I felt very much like Blair when I crossed the Capilano Bridge a few years ago when I was on holiday in Canada. Some idiots (young and adult) were jumping on the bridge and one of my fellow travellers was even more scared than I was. She gave them a tongue lashing, I think they wouldn’t forget in a hurry.  
> Glad I did it though. It’s a beautiful bridge and a great holiday.  
> I still hate heights, though.


End file.
